


Along the Knife's Edge

by KattsEyeDemon



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: D/s elements, Knifeplay, M/M, porn with little plot, slight bloodplay, very little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KattsEyeDemon/pseuds/KattsEyeDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky starts flashing back and panicking, Steve knows just what would bring him back. PWP(kinda)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Along the Knife's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my skype group for this one.

Steve wasn’t sure exactly what was happening.

 

The evening started out normally enough, he got home from his evening run with Sam, smiling at the sight of Bucky just sprawled out on the couch, sleeping soundly. His metal arm flung down to hang, hand on the ground, his other hand resting on his stomach.

 

They had been working so hard on getting him to where he was now. He didn’t have flashbacks very often anymore, of course, the nightmares were still there more often than not. He wasn’t afraid of touch, at least not Steve’s or the others in the tower.

 

In fact, he had come to need  Steve’s touch. Need it like a drowning man. Which, in turn , turned their relationship just a bit toward an area that Steve wouldn’t have even thought about seventy years ago.

 

There were times when Bucky needed Steve to take control. Usually happening closer to a nightmare of a flashback, though as time has marched on, it became more and more often that Steve would look at Bucky and just know exactly what the other man needed.

 

He stepped into the room, walking up to the sleeping Bucky and gently running his hand through the sleeping ex-soldiers hair. When he stooped down, his knee knocked into Buck’s metal arm, causing his entire body to jerk as if shocked.

 

Of course, what happened next is probably where everything went downhill.

 

The next thing Steve knew he was on his back, Bucky straddling his waist and what looked like a military grade knife hovering a scant few millimeters above his face, so close that Steve had to cross his eyes to look at the tip.

 

“Bucky.” He murmured, freezing and slowly moving his hands up to rest beside his own head on the floor. “Buck. It’s me. It’s Steve.”

 

Steve watched as Bucky froze, his eyes clearing just a bit before the telltale sheen of panic covered them and Steve was left lying on the floor alone, the knife falling in a clatter next to him.

 

Bucky was across the room, staring at his hands, back pressed into the corner. He glanced up at Steve before training his eyes back on his hands, his whole body starting to shake.

 

Steve cursed softly, scrambling to stand, trying to beat what he knew he was already too late to stop. He watched as Buck seized up, his eyes growing distant as a flashback hit him, the panic quick to follow as he started rambling under his breath in what Steve already knew to be Russian.

 

Bucky’s hands scrambled along the wall like he was trying to run from whatever he saw, jerking and flinching at imaginary hits before he lost it completely, hands tearing at the wall and anything else he could get to. It didn’t stop once he slumped to the ground either, rather he tried to put everything he could reach in between him and whatever nightmarish thing he was seeing.

 

Steve could only watch as Bucky proceeded to tear their living room apart. He was in shock, watching as the man he loved  fell into a deeper and deeper panic, blind to what was actually happening and slowly becoming stuck in his nightmare.

 

“Bucky.” Steve breathed, his mouth setting into a grim line as he scooped up the knife, to hide it from Bucky, stashing it on their nightstand before hurrying back to the living room, only to see Bucky now yanking at his hair, his metal hand tearing at the skin of his side as he sobbed, hiding half behind the couch.

 

He crouched down in front of him, staring at his face before reaching out and capturing his arms, using them to drag him into Steve’s arms before standing up. He ignored the struggling and the Russian curses, heading toward the bedroom.

 

He knew something that would bring Bucky back from it, that would help Bucky feel safe. Bucky just needed to realize that he wasn’t in control. That he was safe with Steve. That Steve would protect him.

 

Steve kept his face stoney as he all but threw Bucky onto the bed, quickly straddling the out of control man and pinning down his arms, quickly looping the cuffs that he had Tony made (and he was still getting the appraising looks) around Bucky’s wrists, pulling them tight enough that Bucky would feel them, no matter how deep in the panic he was.

 

Bucky’s eyes jerked to look at Steve’s face, pupils blown wide in his panic and a whimpering noise leaving his throat. He tried to tug at the cuffs, his whimper turning into a whine as he realized he was well and truly caught.

 

“That’s right, you can’t get away from me. Not that you would want to, would you Buck?” Steve cooed, his voice soft and soothing. A contrast to the rough hands manhandling Bucky flat on his back, legs apart and nails scratching. He could tell that Bucky was starting to slowly come up, but he needed him back faster. He knew what would do it, and he knew what Bucky needed.

 

He reached over, hand brushing over the handle of the knife where he’d set it, heading to grab the lube, making quick work of Bucky’s pants and boxers, grinning at the growling and cursing coming from the man under him. Ignoring them, he quickly made sure that Bucky wasn’t going to be hurt, stretching the man out and grinning at the bitten off curses now filling the room.

 

Of course, it wasn’t long before Bucky’s mouth tried to out-smart Steve.

 

“What are you doing? I’ve bent over enough for you that you should know what to do.”

 

“Are you going to stop boring me already?”

 

“Let me go, if I wanted a lay this bad I’d go to the Wesley twins on the next block.”

 

Jab after jab left Bucky’s mouth, intent on causing harm with words. It was a defense mechanism, and one that Steve knew how to push past.

 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, Buck.” he hissed, wiping his hand off on Bucky’s stomach before reaching up and grabbing the knife, his other pressing on Bucky’s hips as he leaned forward. “You’re going to take what I give you, you’re going to love it, and the only words allowed past your lips are my name or your safe word. If it’s anything else, you’ll get to meet this lovely. Do you understand? You aren’t allowed to come, aren’t allowed to move your arms, Not until I say so. No mercy, Jerk.” He ended fondly, his nails dragging over one pectoral, catching at a nipple and pulling a harsh sounding groan from Bucky’s chest.

 

He waited until he had a nod before pulling back long enough to hook Bucky’s legs around his waist, setting the knife on the bed long enough to hold Bucky’s hips up to line up, Steve’s other hand stroking and teasing Bucky as he slid into him, letting out a soft groan.

 

Of course, once he started actually fucking Bucky, slowly to get him warmed up and desperate for more, the mouth ran away with the man under him.

 

“Fuck me like you mean it, punk.” He spat, trying to rock his hips higher to get Steve to slide deeper into him.

 

Steve snarled, grabbing the knife and sliding a hand up Bucky’s back to his hair, yanking his head back and hissing into his ear. “What did I say, Bucky?” he snarled, nipping hard at the lobe before pulling his head back, snapping his hips forward.

 

He twisted his fingers in Bucky’s hair to tighten his grip as Bucky repeated himself. Oh no, Steve couldn’t let him think he had any sort of control. He smirked, sliding the knife’s edge down the middle of Bucky’s chest, leaning forward to mouth at the shallow cut, lapping up the blood and pulling back when Bucky let out a hitched moan, licking his lips as he saw the cut slowly disappear.

 

“Did I say you could talk, Bucky? Did I let it on in ANY fashion that you had the control? “he leaned down, kissing Bucky harshly. Buck leaned into it, a soft whine leaving him as he fought for more. Needed more.

 

“Since you can’t seem to be a good boy for me, how about this?” Steve easily twirled the knife in one hand, eyes watching as Bucky’s eyes tracked the movements, hands twisting into fists as Steve leaned forward again, pressing the sharp edge against Bucky’s throat. He yanked on Bucky’s hair to force his head back further, eyes dark as he watched Bucky relaxed the most miniscule amount. But it told him what Bucky needed.

 

“Ah, yes. You prefer this, hmm? Feeling the danger? One wrong move and this blade would slice into your pretty neck until you were covered in red.” he kept up the litany, snapping his hips, letting his breath heat up Bucky’s neck and ear, nipping and sucking hard where he paused.

 

Bucky let out a soft whine, frozen where he was, eyes slowly clearing. He almost jerked, a cry leaving him as Steve found the angle he was after, a smirk curling Steve’s mouth as he kept that angle, slamming into his prostate with every thrust.

 

“So hot for this, aren’t you? Look at you, already fit to burst and I haven’t even started truly fucking you yet. You’re mine. You know this, why do you constantly fight me on this? You don’t have a single shred of control. You. Are. Mine.” he hissed into Bucky’s ear, drawing higher cries and whimpers from the man as he sped up his thrusts, knees spread so that way Bucky couldn’t move his hips.

 

“You don’t belong to them.” he growled. “You’re mine. Mine to fuck and claim and call my own. Mine to protect and care for. Let me protect you from them.”

 

At the soft whining sound he abruptly switched tactics, knowing that Bucky was closer to the surface, but teetering on a different edge all together.

 

“Look at you, moaning like a french whore for my dick. Such a pretty cock-slut. You love it, don’t you? Love it when I fuck you open to where all you remember is my name. Come on, let me hear it, I want to hear how much you want my dick in you. Louder. Let Tony hear it, let the whole tower hear it.” He urged, keeping a watchful eye on his face, pulling back just enough to get more leverage in this thrusts, blood singing at the loud cries and almost screaming moans that echoed around their room.

 

“S-ste..” Bucky tried to work out, his eyes dazed as he fought not to come. “PL-”

 

“If that word coming out of your mouth isn’t my name or your safe word, I don’t want to hear it.” Steve panted, his stomach tightening at the soft whimpering snuffle that meant Bucky was almost there. “You’re Mine.” he gave Bucky a grin, grinding forward to drag over Bucky’s prostate, sending the other man into a sharp arch, yanking at the bonds desperately.

 

Bucky finally relaxed into the bed, the legs around Steve’s waist still tight as he pressed back into each thrust. Tears were on his face as he sobbed out each moan, his muscles loosening in his arm as he gave in, letting Steve fully control him.

 

Steve immediately sat up, still rolling his hips as he flung the knife behind him, faintly hearing it thunk into the wall. His eyes were locked on Bucky, though, as he carefully loosened the grip on his hair, rubbing the scalp with his fingers as he leaned down, kissing him hungrily.

 

“Come for me. Do it, Bucky.” he whispered into Bucky’s ear, hands moving to steady the now bucking hips as the man under him came with a sob. Two thrusts later, Steve was following, burying his face in Bucky’s neck for a moment to collect himself.

 

He smiled at the soft sound, a nose snuffling at his temple. “Come on, baby.” he murmured, carefully untying Bucky and cradling him close, rubbing his arm and checking over the metal one.

 

“There we go, baby.” Steve soothed, rolling over so Bucky was tucked against his side, his fingers gently checking for any strain or pulled muscles. He didn’t leave, not even when the come started growing tacky. He didn’t care, not when the most important person in his world needed him.

 

Bucky buried his face in Steve’s chest as the blond checked him over, making sure no lasting harm was done. He was content to float in his own head, safe in the knowledge that  Steve had him, that Steve was there to protect him.

 

It was a knife’s edge he walked daily with his healing. But he knew Steve was there to guide him across.

 

 


End file.
